


Housewarming Party

by forbala



Series: Shorts: Phichit/Christophe [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, I basically headcanon most if not all these characters as gender flexible, M/M, Minor Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Minor Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit and Yuuri are besties for life, Phichit is a fashion icon, Yuuri drinks a lot but it's not excessive and it's of his own volition/no one has pressured him, maybe not genderfluid but what is gender really, subtly: gender is flexible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 02:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12378897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbala/pseuds/forbala
Summary: Prompt: Imagine your OTP at a party, sitting in the corner doing stupid things for Snapchat and stealing pizza from the kitchen.I didn't follow it that closely but...eh, oh well!Unbeta'd





	Housewarming Party

The housewarming party had, unsurprisingly, turned into more of a house party. Yuuri’d had a little too much wine, though he was nowhere near the level he’d been during the Sochi banquet. He was loose and relaxed and just a bit slutty as they finished dessert, nuzzling into Viktor’s neck and rubbing his husband’s chest over his shirt.

Phichit stood up and said, “Otabear, why don’t you get some music going, hm?” Otabek nodded and went to the living room sound system, Yuri P bristling at the friendly nickname. “Yurio, Georgi, you boys clear the table. Chris, Mila, we’re gonna clear the living room.”

“Who the hell put you in charge?” Yurio asked, crossing his arms.

“Oh, sweetie. I always am. Now, do as you’re told and clear the table.”

Yurio scowled, but when Chris winked at him he gagged and started gathering ice cream bowls, hurrying to the kitchen.

Once the table and living room had been cleared, and Otabek had good dance music going, Phichit dragged Yuuri off his husband long enough to put them both on the makeshift dance floor, then dragged his own boyfriend out with him. Yuuri almost immediately started a tango (even though the music was decidedly not tango) with Viktor, who was giggling like a schoolboy and following along with Yuuri’s lead. Phichit admired them for a few minutes; he’d always loved watching Yuuri dance, watching his friend command a room with his rhythm and crisp movements. Viktor was right, he really did make music with his body, no soundtrack needed.

Eventually, though, Phichit turned away from his favorite couple to pay attention to his boyfriend, who had gone off to the side talking with Mila and Georgi, and probably regaling them with explicit stories, if their faces were anything to go by. Phichit strutted over, a vision in his stiletto boots and perfectly fitted black shorts. He slid a hand up Chris’ bare arm, up to his shoulder, and around to the other shoulder, draped loose but possessive.

“Hello, _mon cher_ , are you ready to dance?” Chris asked. Phichit simply nodded and Chris slipped a hand around his hips and walked them to the dance floor to join their hosts.

They danced for a long time, and soon everyone was dancing. Well, if one could call it dancing. It was more of a writhing mass, to be perfectly honest, but they were having fun. Chris’ hands were on his hips and Phichit was grinding back into him, with one hand back and holding Chris’ head close. Chris mouthed softly at Phichit’s neck. Phichit was in a pleasant haze of alcohol and lust and joy.

After some time, Phichit disentangled himself and told Chris, “I’m thirsty.”

“Mm, so am I, _cher_ ,” Chris responded with a leer, but he chuckled and followed when Phichit rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen. Phichit grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, opened it with the corkscrew, and took a deep gulp.

“Yummy.” He smacked his lips and handed the bottle to Chris, who also drank. “My feet hurt.”

Chris laughed. “That would be the boots, _mon coeur_.”

“But I look so good! Don’t you agree?” he purred, curling his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders and playing with his buzzcut. 

“Well, of course you do. But you know they’re not comfortable, so I don’t know why you always wear them.”

“Because they _look so good_ ,” Phichit insisted. “Now, carry me to the couch so we can drink and watch the party.”

Chris laughed, handed Phichit the bottle, and held out his arms. Phichit covered the wine bottle opening with his thumb and, holding onto Chris’ neck, jumped, Chris catching him easily. They kissed, a little peck, innocent and sweet, and Chris took them into the living room, sat them down on the couch against one wall, where Phichit slid off and drank again from the bottle.

“Yuuri is _sooooo_ cute,” Phichit said, watching his friend again as the couple danced. When Viktor took Yuuri by the hips and dead lifted him into the air, Yuuri’s body extended and taut, arms spread wide, Phichit whooped and laughed and cheered.

Phichit pulled out his phone, which he’d mostly ignored since his arrival, but it was long past time for some SNS. He leaned in with Chris, holding the wine bottle offscreen, and they took a dozen photos in various poses. Phichit posted four of them with the caption “Housewarming party for @v-nikiforov & Katsuki Yuuri with lovely @christophe-gc #viktuuri #phichophe” and a string of emoji hearts and houses.

“There!” he announced. “Perfect!” He kissed Chris and then opened up snapchat. “Now for the real fun.”

They spent the next hour finishing off the bottle and showing off for snapchat, sending snaps to friends both present and not and adding to Phichit’s story. Chris was fond of the face distortion filters, like the big eyes or big chin, but Phichit liked the animals and voice changers better.

Eventually, Yuuri seemed to have danced out all the wine he’d had, and he made his way to the couch and sat down heavily beside his friends. Phichit kissed his temple and took a terrible snapchat photo before Yuuri had time to pose or protest, quickly sending it to all their friends. 

“Neeehh, Phichit, why do you have to embarrass me all the time?” Yuuri whined, laying his head on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m doing community service by sharing your cute face with the world. Denying people access to your beauty is a human rights violation,” Phichit announced, casual but quite authoritative. Yuuri huffed in annoyance but didn’t argue.

“I’m thirsty,” Yuuri muttered after a while.

“Okay, let’s go get some water.” Phichit hauled himself upright, dragging his friend along, and they passed by Georgi and Yurio thrashing on their way to the kitchen.

As they drank their glasses of water, Phichit said, “I’m really happy for you, Yuuri. You’re building a great life here and I’m so glad.”

Yuuri smiled, soft and tender, and Phichit knew it for the priceless gift it was. “Thank you. I’m happy too. This is better than anything I would have imagined.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:  
> -mon cher = my dear  
> -mon coeur = my heart

**Author's Note:**

> French translations:  
> -mon cher = my dear  
> -mon coeur = my heart


End file.
